


Moribund

by ThusAtlas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood and Injury, Cliffhangers, Complete, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Creature Fic, Drabble, Dubious Consent, Elements of Horror, F/M, Flashbacks, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, I had fun being a landscaper, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Hogwarts, Power Dynamics, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Samhain, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Content, Smut, Two Shot, Vampire Draco Malfoy, there's some greek gods in this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:09:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27610508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThusAtlas/pseuds/ThusAtlas
Summary: "He hunted her.He knew he shouldn’t. For every truth that he held to be true, that was one he held the tightest...But Merlin knew he was weak."
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 27
Kudos: 206





	1. Act I

**Author's Note:**

> I had to take a minute away from my main WIP because work is killing my brain. But Dramione was still in my soul and this little ditty came out. Enjoy! 
> 
> TW - well nothing really in this chapter, they're all in the next one. You have been warned. But if I'm wrong, let me know and I shall amend. Muchos love!
> 
> Without further ado, enjoy the little drabble.

* * *

**_“Beneath the pressure of torments such as these,_ **

**_the feeble remnant of the good within me succumbed._ **

**_Evil thought became my sole intimates –_ **

**_The darkest and most evil thoughts.”_ **

_-Edgar Allan Poe – The Black Cat_

He hunted her.

He knew he shouldn’t. For every truth that he held to be true, that was one he held the tightest...

But Merlin knew he was weak.

He ran a hand through his hair and checked that the mask he wore was still in place. Theo had gone over-board; all the invite had required was the presence of a mask in order to attend the festival. And so Theo, whose eternal state of existence ascribed to being ‘tongue-in-cheek’ at every possible opportunity, had appeared with a gilded silver skull mask for Draco.

But he was long past caring about the expectations he had been bound to since the fall of the Old.

Draco Malfoy could never describe himself as a good man. He would never place himself as the hero of a story. The war had changed him far more than most realised. On top of performing the Dark Lord’s missions and skirting the line of darkened sanity that festered in the halls of his home, he had taken on the brunt of the Malfoy family responsibility following his father’s failures.

But in doing so, he had also bore the punishment of their collective failures.

He straightened the cuffs of his white shirt and rolled his shoulders, settling the crisp cut of his suit. His grey eyes roamed over the fire-lit, finely dressed bodies. The Selwyn’s had opened their gates to allow the masses of Wizarding society to partake in the festivities on their sprawling lawns and woods.

That night...That night all those years ago when the Golden Trio had landed in their laps, he had simultaneously wanted to cry in relief that they were alive and vomit on his shoes at the situation they had found themselves in. He had been forced to make a choice that night: gamble his family or the war. Draco had reasoned that the outcome of the war was too precarious, too delicate, too fragile a thing to risk on odds.

But his life, as he took another failure of his family, was forfeit.

He drew in a long, deep inhale, scenting the notes in the air.

Burnt cedarwood.

Caramelised apples.

Mixes of synthetic perfumes.

Earthy mud and sodden grass.

_There..._ Her – his chosen vice for the evening.

Adrenaline ignited his veins as a low purr rumbled through his chest. He inhaled sharply, scenting her position on the wind. Her notes: pearl drops of ambrosia and sprigs of honey were too embedded in the smoke and ash. Draco narrowed his eyes, searching for any sign of her in the low golden glow of the fire-pits. He huffed in frustration as his gaze glossed over silken swathes and glinting jewels, with no semblance of his bane. He flexed his fingers that itched for her and pocketed them in his slacks as he disappeared into the refined revelry.

When the Dark Lord had gotten wind of the happenings at the Manor on that fateful night, he had pinned Draco with his fathomless red eyes and smiled. He didn’t rage and scream as everyone had expected. He didn’t destroy the place in a fit of fury. He had calmly beckoned Draco forward, curling his skeletal finger, without offering a word or explanation - just the fixed serene smile upon his twisted, ghoulish face. The Dark Lord had turned and swept from the room, his black robes slithering across the floor, and Draco had followed sombrely in his wake like a pietistic shadow. He had walked away from the sounds of his mother’s broken gasp and the thud of her knees hitting the floor. He can still remember the way that his clammy skin had goose-pimpled in the frozen air of the Manor as he had walked through the empty halls.

 _“As you know Young Draco_ ,” the hollow voice had rasped, _“when this inconvenience is over, it will fall to me to order the new hierarchy of the society.”_

The hairs had risen on Draco’s neck as the Dark Lord led him out of the Manor and onto the misty, grey lawns.

 _“And you know, Young Draco, that the purity of one’s blood will be key to their standing in my world…”_ The Dark Lord had turned his head slightly, to fix his blood-red eyes on Draco over his shoulder. _“You know that, don’t you?”_ He had whispered, his sibilant voice curling malevolently around the words.

Draco’s heart had stuttered as his tongue had flicked out to wet his lips: _“yes, My Lord.”_

 _“I suppose,”_ The Dark Lord had hushed ominously, _“that death would be a blessing for those lesser beings with rotten blood in a society so pure, wouldn’t you agree?”_

 _“Yes, my Lord,”_ Draco had intoned as he’d occluded his growing horror behind a mask of indifference, numbing himself to the inevitable conclusion that he foresaw the moment he chose to lie.

That was the price he had forfeited. That was the gamble he had been willing to lose.

And oh how he had lost.

The playful tunes of the bands filled the festival with a jubilant, buoyant atmosphere, while the embers from the fire-pits spiralled up from the dancing flames, disappearing into the night. Draco slipped between masked figures who were dripping in finery and riches. It was a mixed crowd that lingered on the lawns. His eyes caught on Pansy’s glittering gown and paused a moment to watch her trail a pointed nail down the column of Longbottom’s neck. He moved on, blinking away the uncomfortable visage. He heard the bellowing cackle of the Weasley Matriarch carry over the fiddler’s tune as he slipped between a group of young girls, skipping in circles, their ribbons trailing whimsically behind.

Post-war society.

An illusion of peace filled with strained smiles and caustic glances. An experiment of etiquette and fragile alliances.

The empty promise of forgiveness.

_“And you will hold a valuable place in the new world,”_ The Dark Lord had said as he had led Draco through the grounds towards the gnarled woods that lay at the edge of the property. _“You will stand as a testament to the value of purity.”_

Draco remembered the way his brow had furrowed as the shadows of the old woods had swallowed him, and the shivers had crept down his spine.

Minutes, but it had felt like an eternity. Every step mirrored a beat of his terrified heart, that feebly begged for escape. Because he had known that he held the burden of the family name. Because he had known that should he have turned to run, as he had so longed to do, that the punishment would have fallen on his mother.

And that was unacceptable.

A **bang** drew Draco’s attention as he watched the twirling ribbons of the laughing girls. He blinked and inhaled sharply, scenting the air once again.

Smoke and ash.

Burnt tobacco and sour wine.

Saccharine syrups.

Ambrosia and honey.

It was stronger from his place in amongst the people, in the direct slipstream of the gentle breeze as it drifted into the throng of festivities from the far reaches of the gathering. He picked his way through the baseless, hedonistic frivolity that circumvented decorum in the name of co-operation and celebration. The world was always clearer to see through the eyes of those who were outside looking in. Even though the war had been lost for him, even though the Dark Lord's nightmarish utopia had never been realised, Draco still bore the scars of the gamble that had left him a pariah in even the lorded inclusive society.

Draco grunted in primal satisfaction as he slipped into the shadows of the Selwyn’s famous statue maze, his senses hooked on the mouth-watering scent that had haunted him for years.

_“You will stand as a lesson to all those who think to question me,”_ The Dark Lord had said as his long, bony fingers had curled around the pointed chin of a starving vampire.

_“Young Draco, at the cost of what you have deprived me today, I will take from you.”_

The venom had burned his body as the fangs had pierced his skin.

_“As a creature of the dark, you will long for death.”_

The deep red of The Dark Lord’s eyes had seared into the tatters of his soul as it was ripped apart.

_“I take your future, your reason to live.”_

Draco’s throat had screamed itself raw as the cells of his body froze and re-animated into his new ascian state.

_“That is the price you will pay.”_

Within the maze, the minimal light that the fire-pits offered was lost behind the towering hedgerows. Instead, solemn balls of blue-white light hung at random intervals along the winding paths, throwing the world within the confines of the maze into a ghostly twilight. Draco slipped around the shaded bend of the neatly trimmed maze and skirted the effigy of the Moirai who bathed luxuriously in the Waters of Time. They tutted at his interruption but he paid them no heed as he disappeared further into the hedge grove.

With every twist and turn, the scent of ambrosia and honey got sweeter and the carnal hunger within him grew stronger.

She wasn’t for him, he knew that. After everything that existed between them, he knew that he should slip away into the darkness.

But Draco would never describe himself as a good man.

A broken man. 

A selfish man.

A weak man.

A shade of a man

But never good.

He paused, hearing the hush of delicate fabric brush across the dewy ground, the scent of ambrosia thick in the air.

Draco crept forward, tensing low, fangs’ sharp, breath burning in his lungs. His pale, long fingers skimmed the hedge-wall as he edged closer to the bend.

He paused, filling his lungs with the delectable scent that made his frozen veins, sing. He could hear her moving, slowly, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. He leant away from the wall to peer around the corner.

There. Her white dress fell in carelessly artistic gossamer drapes over her curves, tantalisingly loose with every sway of her hips. Her long leg broke free from the skirt through the dramatic slit in the side, flashing the creamy pale skin that looked hauntingly perfect in the ghostly blue twilight. Her wild hair tumbled artfully over her bareback, only teasing glimpses of the soft skin waiting beneath. Her dark eyes twinkled as she turned her elegant neck to observe the statue of Hades, who held a hand out to her as she passed, trailing his marble finger through her untameable curls.

Draco’s chest rumbled quietly with a possessive growl.

Hermione Granger was not Hades’ tonight - but his.


	2. Act II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bring to you, Act II. This is truthfully my first time writing anything like this, so any helpful pointers and commentary would be greatly appreciated. 
> 
> If you require any trigger warnings regard consent or sex. Please, please see the notes at the end of the chapter before reading my dears! Muchos love x  
> As for general triggers: blood, lots of blood/ blood-drinking. 
> 
> Without further ado, grab your snack and drink of choice, and enjoy!

**_The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague._ **

**_Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?_ **

**_-_ ** _Edgar Allan Poe_

Draco watched as Hermione disappeared around another corner. The fragile, diaphanous trail of her skirts whispered across the ground, lending her an ethereal silhouette as she moved through the twisting umbra. She wore a golden mask covering her eyes, a similar design to his own, that glinted coldly in the blue twilight as she turned her head to admire the statues she passed.

With every step, his hunger grew.

He was a starving man, ravenous with his need for her.

Draco halted as he rounded the next corner, only to see that she had made it to the centre of the maze. The winding path opened up into an expansive space that had been designed to be an allegory of water and Olympus; the mosaic tiles were divided by waterways and crashing waterfalls that fed into the main, albeit small, lake that sat in the centre. There was a network of bridges connecting each partition of land, creating a one-way, winding path that towards the marble gazebo that stood in the middle of the lake. Draco had spent many a weekend growing up, playing - and later smoking - in this exact spot with Theo and Blaise while their parents plotted their machinations.

He spotted Hermione up ahead, leaning over the side of one of the bridges, laughing at the statues of the nymphs who splashed water playfully at her. Draco’s mouth dried as he watched her pink lips part in glee, releasing a rapturous melody.

It was the nymphs who spotted him first.

They paused their mischief, their marble eyes blinking in curiosity as they swivelled towards him. Hermione turned to see what had caused their distraction and froze. He heard the catch in her breath as the smile dropped from her lips.

“I didn’t see you there,” she said.

Draco huffed a laugh as he stepped up on to her bridge. “That was the point.”

His fingers twitched at his side.

“What do you want?” she asked, turning more bodily towards him. His eyes hungrily devoured the divine silhouette of her curves, pausing on the peak of the rounded breasts that was visible in the plunging neckline.

Draco huffed a bitter laugh. “There are many things I want Granger. A new accountant, peace in our time… freedom.”

He took another predatory step forward and watched as her heeled foot slipped back, edging away from him.

A burst of furious pleasure swarmed his veins as the taste of the hunt sweetened upon his tongue.

“Well, I’m sure there’s something you can do about the accountant,” she replied. He watched as her eyes darted, searching for something under her golden mask. “As for the others, well we have peace and you are free so…”

“Always got an answer for everything, haven’t you Granger?” Draco drawled, tensing and coiling as he continued his slow prowl towards her.

Her step back was more certain.

She pursed her pink lips, her body tensing in a way so familiar to Draco, that it felt like a sense of home embedded in memory.

“What do you want Malfoy?” Her voice held a bite of accusation as she retreated further.

“To have what I came for,” he said, a deep rumble from his chest coated his words. “To take what is mine.”

Hermione retreated further.

The tension between them strained like a sonorous crescendo, begging for a reprieve. 

Draco watched, calculating as he took another careful step closer.

_There._

In the blink of an eye, he dropped his wand from his sleeve.

“Expelliarmus,” he hissed with a stabbing jab just as Hermione pulled hers from the slit of her skirts. He snapped his hand out to catch her wand with ease as she stumbled back.

“Malfoy, whatever you’re up to, quit it. Somebody will be along at any moment.”

Draco laughed, slipping her wand securely into the inner pocket of his jacket, whilst he twirled his own between his fingers.

“What do you _want_?!” she snapped in frustration through gritted teeth.

He levelled his gaze upon her, content in the knowledge that his harmless prey was trapped.

“For you to run,” he purred, as an insidious smile etched upon his lips. “Fly away little dove.”

Hermione didn’t need telling twice. She turned on her pointed heel and ran off the bridge and along the twisting path. Draco chuckled quietly, admiring the way that the dress billowed behind her. She looked like a spirit gliding through the night, her hair wild and free as she crossed another bridge. Draco pocketed his hands and began to amble after her, his eyes never leaving his mark.

She would realise soon, that she was running into a dead-end.

Until then, Draco basked in giving her the illusion of power, allowing her unwavering confidence that she would escape him to burn bright.

He followed in her wake, silent as a shadow, ever further as she wound her way to the centre of the watery network. He saw the moment she realised.

The clack of Hermione’s stilettos echoed down the long bridge that cut over the lake to the gazebo. Her steps faltered as she came to an abrupt stop. She circled, trying to find a way out of the structure, but she was caged by tall marble balustrades and pillars, surrounded by still, black water on all sides. Draco took his time as he closed in on her now that he had stepped onto the very same bridge.

“What are you doing?! What do you want Malfoy?!” Hermione snapped, tearing the mask from her face.

Draco took a moment, admiring the visage of the Fury caged in stone.

“It’s very simple,” he drawled, coming ever closer. “To claim what is mine.”

“Why? What is yours?”

“You,” he replied simply, his register low in his throat. “You are mine. As for why? Well,” he shrugged nonchalantly as he stepped off the bridge and into her cage. “I was told that I would have no future, but you see, I quite frankly disagree.”

“Me?” Hermione stuttered, backing away from him as he continued to prowl forward. “Why me?”

“It’s always been you,” Draco growled closing in on her. _It shouldn’t be you._ “You are, and always will be, my bane.”

_Have mercy._

Draco could see the whites of her doe eyes as he prowled towards her; his careful steps precise, silent and unerring. He flourished he wand, casting ‘muffliato’ over the gazebo before sliding his wand next to hers in his inner pocket. His blood sang the closer he came to hero, warming his cold body. His eyes trailed over her curves as she continued to back away from him.

The subtle hypnotic sway of her hips.

The brush of the thin fabric that hung loosely over her breasts.

The constriction of her throat as she swallowed harshly.

The flutter of her pulse beneath her smooth skin.

_Gods help me, but I need her._

Hermione’s retreat suddenly ceased as her back struck against a pillar of the gazebo and the predator within him keened.

“I _will_ take you,” he said darkly as he removed his mask. He threw it carelessly to the side as he closed the distance between them. He slipped his jacket from his shoulders, tossing it with the rest. While he loosened the cuffs of his shirt, he watched in abject adulation as she set her jaw defiantly, the fire burning in her golden eyes as she stood her ground. “I will have you in every way. I will make you mine.”

“No, you won’t,” Hermione hissed, straightening her shoulders, staring him down like an avenging angel facing its fallen brethren.

Draco’s lips peeled back in a snarl as he lunged toward her, slamming her into the pillar behind. His hand automatically sought her throat as he claimed her mouth. He pinned her small body with his, forcing his thigh between hers as he fought for dominion of her mouth. He could already feel the heat of her soaking through his trousers as he felt her small hands scrabbling at the collar of his shirt. She bit his lip and clawed his neck. He twisted around her tongue and stole her breath. The dress slipped under his questing fingers as his large hands kneaded her supple curves; his chest rumbled in pleasure as he felt her quiver. He tipped her jaw back further, fully opening her up to him as he towered over her; a rueful grin pulled at the corners of his mouth while he swallowed the little breathy moans that came from the back of her throat. He pushed further, relentlessly demanding more until he felt the twitch of her hips against his thigh.

Draco released her mouth only to turn her and pin her against the pillar. He grabbed both of her wrists and brought them roughly above her head. He wrapped his hand around both of hers, securing them in place. He used his other to drag her mountainous mane from over her shoulder, exposing her neck to him. Hermione growled, arching her back, pushing her ass into his hardened length while she tried to free her wrists from his grasp.

“Stop,” Draco rumbled, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His free hand quickly found the entrance to the enthralling slit in her skirts and roughly pulled it aside.

“Make me,” Hermione bit back breathily, renewing her struggles. He ruthlessly kicked her feet apart, widening her stance.

Draco lifted his head from her shoulder as his hand sought the juncture between her thighs. His chest vibrated with a deep, victorious purr as he tore through the flimsy lace, leaving it to flutter to the ground, forgotten. He ran a finger tantalisingly over her slit, already finding her wet.

“With pleasure,” he growled against the shell of her ear as his hand slowly slipped possessively over her to bury two fingers deep inside her. A low moan tore from Hermione’s throat as she circled her hips, riding his fingers, brushing her clit against his palm and her ass against his cock. With a carnal urgency, Draco brutally curled his fingers, rubbing the rough spot to spin her ever higher. He pressed the heel of his palm more incessantly against her. She wound tighter, teetering on the edge -

Draco removed his hand.

“You bastard,” Hermione exclaimed desperately, her chest heaving, her skin shimmering. Draco released a dark chuckle and began to unfasten his trousers. He pulled himself free while maintaining a hold on her hands.

“Seriously!” She hissed, renewing her struggle as he dipped his head to graze his teeth over the sinewy juncture where her neck met shoulder. “This is not funny.”

“I’m not here for your amusement,” Draco replied, his free hand swept her skirt up and over her back as he kicked her leg out further. Hermione struggled against his grip once again, wiggling her now exposed ass to the cold night air. Draco took hold of his cock and ran it over her core, slicking it and teasing her until her mewl of want held a raw edge to it.

Slowly, he pushed into her, taking his time to savour her wet heat. Hermione struggled again and began to push her hips back when he wrapped his arm around her waist, restraining her movement.

“I’m not here for your amusement, do you understand?” He said in her ear, the growl of his words rumbling deep in his chest as he fully sheathed himself.

“Fuck you,” Hermione snapped back, her wrists straining in his hand. Draco began to pull out just as slow, taking his time, delighting in the way that she moaned and bucked in his grip, trying in vain, to bear down on him. He chuckled darkly as he fucked into her sharply, pushing the air from her lungs.

“No sweet Golden Girl. Understand,” he crooned as he quickened his pace, taking care to bury himself as deep as he could before withdrawing again, “that you’re here for _my_ amusement only.”

He watched the tendons in her slender neck stood stark in the solemn light as she bit her lip, in an attempt to muffle the glorious sounds he pulled from her mouth. He moved the hand that was wrapped around her waist to slip beneath the loose neckline that dangled temptingly beneath her. He felt her cunt clench around him as he pinched her nipple hard, tearing a scream from her throat.

“I will take _everything_ from you,” Draco growled viciously as he set a punishing rhythm. He pushed her higher and higher, until finally, she broke, quivering and sobbing in his arms, squeezing and pulsing around him. He slowed his pace, cherishing the fluttering strokes of her as she trembled. 

“You’ll have to – to try harder than that,” she gasped as her eyes opened and she had the strength to hold her head up once more. Draco hissed in response and pulled her up sharply, his one hand still torturing her breasts, the other constricting her wrists. He looped her arms up and over their heads so that her fingers automatically sought to bury themselves in his hair whilst he pinned her to his chest. He widened his own stance slightly to compensate for the height difference as he resumed fucking up into her.

“I’ve only just begun,” he rumbled against her neck. His tongue flicked out, tasting the salt of her skin as her pulse flirted with his lips beneath the surface. Hermione tipped her head against his shoulder, arching her back, grounding down onto him as he pulled back his lips to expose his teeth to her skin.

“Do your worst,” she breathed between hiccupped moans. Draco switched his brutal ministrations to her other breast whilst his now free hand circled her throat, angling her jaw in such a way that presented his banquet before him.

_Forgive me._

“With pleasure,” he growled as he pierced her skin with his fangs.

She surrounded him.

Suffocated him.

The sparking light of her blood danced across his tongue as it swiped across the fragile skin of her neck. The heady, honey syrup trickled down his throat. He took a gulping breath and was swarmed with the scent of her, the ambrosia, that clouded the air around them. The feel of the undulating curve of her breast in his hand as his cock continued to move within her, twisted his predatory need. He could feel the friction of the drag with every thrust, pulling him, seducing him ever closer to the edge of the abyss.

As she crested once again, Draco released a growl from deep with his chest, frustrated with his selfishness. He wanted to claim all of her. She was his, here under the watchful gaze of the gods that besmirched him, she was his and he didn’t want to leave any room for doubt on the matter. He pulled back, releasing his hold on her neck as his cock slipped from her folds. Hermione mewled and began to wiggle her hips searchingly when Draco grabbed her arm and forcefully spun her around. He captured her pretty jaw tightly between his fingers and forced her to meet his gaze.

“Mine,” he growled as his silver eyes danced between her golden ones.

“Awfully sure of yourself don’t you think?” She retorted, her breath shaky. One of her small hands wrapped around the wrist of the hand that held her, while the other circled his cock between them. Draco faltered, dropping his head forward as heat shot up his spine at the feel of her soft palm against his shaft.

_Selfish, selfish man._

With a sudden surge of power, Draco captured her lips, thrusting his tongue into her mouth as he swept the trailing skirt aside and hooked it around her hips, exposing Hermione's lower half to the cold night air. He released her jaw and trailed his fingers down her bloodied throat to where the dress loosely covered her ample breasts with its swooping neckline. As his fingers had been itching to do since he had first laid eyes on the cut, he gently moved the gossamer material to either side, parting it with ease to rest, perfectly framing her dusky pink, pebbled nipples. He took her pouty lip gently between his teeth and pulled away, letting it snap back as he looked down and took in the sight of her.

The blood from Hermione's neck had spread, staining the top of the pure white dress. The red bloomed angrily down the neckline, only to lovingly cup her breasts where he had parted it. She was every bit as regal, every bit as divine. Her wild hair tumbled over her shoulders, brushing against her heaving chest; her golden eyes watched him eagerly with blown pupils. The kiss-bruised lips glistened as much as her parted thighs in the ghostly light.

He was a slave to his baser urges.

He was a slave to her.

Draco fell to his knees assuming the sacrosanct act of worshipping her. He hooked Hermione's knee over his shoulder as he kissed up her thigh, savouring the taste of her that had already escaped from her core. He ran his teeth over the tendon in her groin, as if in quiet meditation whilst his hunger grew at the sound of each hitched breath that reached his ears. He slid a finger through her folds, coating it in the slick wetness. He pulled back just enough to watch his one finger disappear into her, closely followed by a second. He was instantly consumed by jealousy of his hand that revelled in the slickness of her cunt and gave in to his selfish greed. He surged forward and hungrily sucked her clit into his mouth. As his fingers curled mercilessly, fucking her, taking everything that he could from her, his tongue reverently lapped up her juices, tasting her, teasing her, pushing her ever higher. She snapped. He growled in satisfaction around her clit as her guttural moan shattered the air. He stroked her through her crest as she coated his hand. Just when she had started to dip, he twisted his fingers and resumed his ministrations, licking her from where his hand kissed her entrance to her clit. It wasn’t long before she tightened around him once more, her broken moans peppering the air. Draco grazed his teeth against her clit and watched Hermione fall apart with rapture. His free hand swiped out with impossible speed to prop her up as the force of her orgasm buckled her knees. He stroked her through the wave, his eyes never leaving her fractured soul that whispered his name in desperate sighs, only ceasing and releasing her when she was able to right herself without teetering over. As Hermione caught her breath, Draco indulged in savouring every drop, licking his fingers clean of her ambrosia until he felt her small hands in his hair.

“Draco,” she breathed, with a gentle tug of his locks. He smiled around his fingers and looked up at her. She was gloriously dishevelled, tantalisingly ruined. “Draco please,” she whined. Electric shot straight to his cock as her nails scraped through his hair, their rounded points erring on the edge of pain.

“What do you want, hmm?” He rumbled as he stood. He trailed his hands up her thighs and captured Hermione’s lips that were still parted in exaltation. Her mouth was burning hot with need as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He grasped her legs, pulling them apart, securing them around his waist as he straightened to his full height. He kissed her, his tongue dancing with hers as he walked them over the gazebo balustrade to deposit her on the rail.

“What do you want?” He whispered against her lips, the hush of their mingled breaths deafening in the silent space.

“You – in me,” Hermione stuttered, as she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, roughly undoing them in her haste.

Draco centred between her legs and used the momentum to guide himself back into her core with a sharp thrust that made both of them cry out in pleasure. Hermione rested her forehead against his, sharing his air, as Draco fought to reign in his control.

“Please,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his as she shifted her hips and shifting mesmerizingly on his cock. Draco’s groan rumbled deep from within him and had him abandoning any pretence of patience.

“I told you,” he growled as his hand cupped the back of her head and buried his fingers in her wild tresses; he withdrew from her, leaving just the tip, “that you are mine.”

“You only win because I allow it,” Hermione moaned huskily, as her nails clawed at his chest. With a vicious growl, Draco tightened his fingers and pulled her head back sharply so that thereby the grace of his strength, she was leant back on display over the open water below, her hips balanced on the balustrade and his cock that now forcefully began to fuck her, punishingly, relentless, unendingly. He watched with reverence as her breasts bounced freely in the open air, glowing in the moonlit, ephemeral twilight. Her sharp cries that punctured the air with each thrust were chorused by the sound of the slick, wet slap of their skin meeting in the hallowed juncture of her thighs.

In no time at all, Hermione fell apart once more, clenching tight around his cock that continued to bruisingly bury itself within her. But it wasn’t enough for absolution.

Not yet.

_I am a weak man._

Without a hitch in his rhythm, Draco folded Hermione back to him. With his grip still secure in her hair, he claimed her mouth, teeth clashing in desperation as his tongue easily dominated hers.

He consumed her as her walls continued to convulse around him. She keened needily into his mouth while he growled - the monster within him preening in satisfaction.

But he wanted more.

Draco’s pace didn’t wane as she crested yet again. He hungrily swallowed her cries, only to pull back slightly and nip her lip with his sharp teeth. He swept into her mouth tasting the glittering light of her blood as he felt her cunt tighten impossibly. He broke away and forcefully tugged her head back, exposing her neck. He ran his mouth down her throat, feeling her thrumming, broken pulse beat rapidly against his lips as the honeyed musk of her skin drowned his senses.

And further south he travelled, tasting her, nipping her, kissing her, worshipping her all the while he fucked her desperately, ceaselessly, unyieldingly. His mouth circled a dusky nipple as he used his free hand to adjust the angle that her hips were balanced, to allow his tall frame easier access for his cock hit the point inside her that never failed to push her over the edge. His tongue flicked the pebbled nub as his lips suckled on to the soft skin around it. Draco could feel Hermione begin to tighten once again, her unintelligible chants falling faster from her lips and he felt the familiar tug of ecstasy within him rise to meet her.

_More…_

An animalistic growl tore from his throat as he ceased his ministrations to nip the thin, delicate skin of her breast. He groaned gutturally as sunshine ambrosia kissed his tongue while her walls clamped around him like a vice, his name falling from her lips like a prayer. His free hand slipped between them and circled her clit, pushing her higher still all the while the thread of ecstasy within him pulled tauter.

It was only when Draco was seconds from the edge of the abyss, that he released his hold of her breast and pulled her to him once more. Hermione’s arms automatically circled him as he loosened his grip on her hair. Her nails slid up the back his neck, sending a cacophony of shivers down his spine.

Draco surrendered, a whimper falling from his lips as his cock continued to slide into her wet heat.

“Let go,” Hermione’s whispered in a stuttered breath against the shell of his ear as she fluttered around him. He gripped her hips tight, the tips of his fingers bruising her perfect flesh.

Silver eyes met gold.

And she was divine as she eclipsed him.

Her lips, blood-stained and kiss-bruised rouge, her pupils blown wide, her orgasm flushing her skin an enchanting rose as her bloodied breasts bounced while he used her to fuck his cock. The pure white of her seraphic dress, ruined by the aggressive scarlet trails he had left in the wake of his touch.

As she came back down to earth, Hermione loosened one of her hands from around his shoulders, her golden, fathomless eyes searching his. With a tenderness that had no place in amongst the sacrilege, she gently trailed the pad of her finger across his cheekbone. Enchanted, Draco could do nothing but watch, breath gasping, hips stuttering as her finger gently traced the line of his jaw. And as he relentlessly chased his end, in a kismet act of mercy, Hermione carefully took Draco’s chin between her fingers, her eyes never leaving his as she softly pressed her lips to his in a chaste kiss.

The rush of something so achingly potent overwhelmed Draco and violently snapped the thread. 

White light flashed behind his eyes as he died a little death. For a moment, he ceased to exist; he was reduced to the way that his conscious and soul devoutly tied to the woman who held him in her arms.

As the world gradually came back into focus, Draco buried his head in the crook of Hermione’s neck to catch his breath. He could hear her wild heart rapping against her ribs. He pulled back and swallowed heavily, feeling thoroughly satiated and none too pleased with himself. Hermione met his eye shyly as she still fought to slow her breathing. Gently, Draco returned the chaste kiss that she had gifted him. When he felt her relax, he parted only to lean his forehead against hers.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hi,” Draco replied in kind.

Hermione looked down at herself. “I think we made a bit of a mess.”

Draco snorted indelicately. “True, let me… one second.”

He groaned as he slipped from her. He paused, waiting for the swooping sensation of vertigo to pass before he tenderly tucked himself away. He crossed the gazebo to retrieve his jacket from where he had thrown it. Draco turned and made his way back, pulling his wand from the inside pocket as he did. He admired appreciatively the beatified debauched image of her, still splayed in offering. He twisted his wand, muttering healing charms over the cuts that he had made.

_A shade of a man._

A flicker of something dark threaded through his veins as he watched Hermione’s perfect skin knit back together.

He flinched in surprise as he felt the gentle pad of Hermione’s finger sweep an errant lock of his hair back. Her eyes searched his as she trapped him in her thrall and Draco released the last of his breath in forfeit. He dipped his head in deference and savoured the benediction of her gentle lips against his forehead.

“Well,” Hermione breathed, as she pulled back from him, pushing her hair from her face. Draco regrettably righted the neckline of her dress to cover her breasts once more. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to join the festival now.”

A smirk pulled at the corner of Draco’s mouth. “Oh?” He inquired innocently as he pulled on his jacket and handed her wand back to her. “You heading home then?”

He met Hermione’s eye and bit the inside of his cheek to keep a straight face at her unamused look as she stood shakily from her perch on the balustrade.

“Yes Draco,” she said in an obvious tone. “Are you com-”

“Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to,” he said, stepping into her space once more to wrap his arms around her waist. “I didn’t want to come to this fucking thing in the first place.”

Hermione loosened a delighted laugh as she leant against him, her hands resting against his broad chest as she looked up at him.

“So you didn’t enjoy yourself then?” She said with a twinkle of mischief in her eye. Draco raised an unamused eyebrow, causing her to laugh more.

“What did I just say?” He demanded, fighting to restrain his own smile. “Don’t ask que-”

“Yes yes,” Hermione said affectionately as she stood on her tip-toes to capture his lips chastely. Draco’s world silenced as he focused on the feel of her lips against his.

“Take me home,” she breathed. Draco nodded and pulled back to retrieve his wand from the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Oh and love,” Hermione said sweetly as he settled his arm back around her waist in preparation to apparate them back to their home. “Next time, I hunt you.”

The bark of Draco’s laughter echoed with the **crack** of apparition around the empty gazebo and the centre of the maze was peaceful once more. Amphitrite and Poseidon shared secretive smiles with one another while the heads of the philosophers resumed their conversations. And while the nymphs giggled and fanned themselves in their spots by the lake, it was only Dynamene and Galene, the calmer pair of the group, who spotted the glint of the gold and silver masks that framed the tattered remains of lace that lay forgotten on the gazebo floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGERS: There is an element of this that plays out of no-consent given. However, by the end, it is apparent that this is infact an established relationship. They're merely being kinky buggers and role-playing. Explicit consent is given for any and all of the above - it's just not noted within the drabble. I hope this helps anyone who needs it! x
> 
> As always, constructive criticism is welcome. Any thoughts and comments are loved and adored, and as I said, this is my first time writing something like this so I'd love to know how I can improve. 
> 
> If you want to come and say hello, find here: https://thusatlas.tumblr.com/
> 
> Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos let me know that you're there and release my daily dose of serotonin. Constructive criticism is always welcome.


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